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Ship  in  the  W^ahe 

'  / 


a  Three  Act  Play 


For  Boy  s  and  Young  Men 


By 

Rev.  P.  J.  Carroll,  C.  S.  C. 


Publiahed  by  the  Author 
226  North  Hill  St.,  South  Bend,  Ind. 


Copyrighted  1916 

BY 

Rev.  P.  J.  CARROLL,  C. 


All  Rights  Reserved 


AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED  TO  THE 

ORIGINAL  CAST 


Father  Hyland — Spiritual  Director  of  the  Junior  Holy  Name 


Society _ _ Ulrich  Hiss 

Frank  Moore — President _ Edmund  Probst 

Will  Foster — Vice-President _ Edmund  Luther 

John  Pierce — Treasurer _ Elmer  Kline 

Don  Wise — Secretary _ Harold  Winkler 


LEADING  MEMBERS 


Tommie  Donovan _ 

“Red”  Werner _ 

“Mope”  Templeton _ 

“Spots”  Bayfield _ 

George  Eyre  _ 

Ray  Higgens _ 

Dick  Johnson  _ 

Lemon  Lennihan _ 

“Toby”  Tucker  _ 

Ralph  Regan _ 

“Happy”  Anderson _ 

“Skinny”  McCabe _ 

“Dude”  Weeman  (who  won’t  join) 


_ Howard  Daveline 

_ Joseph  Zangerle 

_  William  Braunsdorf 
_ Louis  Kinerk 

_ Lawrence  Miller 

Harold  Archambeault 

_ Edward  Keller 

_ Paul  Beriault 

_ Arthur  Howard 

_ Melvin  Humphrey 

_ Elmer  Kline 

Aloysius  Lamirand 
_ Clayson  Hauck 


MEMBERS  OF  MAGNOLIA  CLUB 


Prank  Hewutt _ 

Everett  Browm _ 

Ernest  Smithson _ 

Harold  Dixon _ 

Ebberfield  Chesterton _ ^ - 

Leeland  Stanton _ 

.  I'Who  wish  to  be  called-! 

Catherine  _ \  | 

Book  Agent  _ 

A  Pilgrim  in  Need _ 

Little  Girl _ 


_ Ralph  Cressy 

__  Bernard  McCaffery 

_  John  Guendling 

_ Lawrence  Daveline 

_ Clifford  Davies 

_ Maurice  Thornton 

_ Maurice  Thornton 

_ Ruth  Frain 

__  Lawrence  Daveline 

_ Ralph  Cressy 

% 

_ Mary  Joyce 


PERSONS  IN  THE  PLAY. 


Prominent  Alembers. 


Father  Hyland — Spiritual  Director  of  the  Junior  Holy  Name 
Society. 

Prank  Moore- — The  President. 

Will  Foster — The  Vice-President. 

John  Pierce — The  Treasurer. 

Don  Wise — The  Secretary. 

Tommie  Donovan 
‘^Red’^  Werner 
“Mope^^  Templeton 
‘‘Spots^^  Bayfield 
George  Eyre 
Ray  Higgins 
Dick  Johnson 
‘‘Lemon^’  Lennihan 
Toby  Tucker 
Ralph  Regan 
‘‘Happy’’  Anderson 
“Skinny”  McCabe 
“Dude”  Weeman- — Who  won’t  join. 

Everett  Brown 
Ernest  Smithson 
Harold  Dixon 
Ebberfield  Chesterton 
Leeland  Stanton 
Prank  Hewitt 

John  )  wish  to  be  “called.” 

Catherine  ) 

Book  Agent. 

A  Pilgrim  in  Need. 

Little  Girl. 

TIME-THIS  YEAR. 

PLACE— A  SMALL  TOWN. 


Members  of  the  Mangolia  Club, 


ACT.  1. 

Scene  I. — Street  in  a  Small  Town, 

Scene  II. — Priest’s  Study. 

ACT  II. 

Scene  I. — -Mangolia  Glut)  Room. 

Scene  II. — Gymnasium  of  Junior  Holy  Name. 

ACT  HI. 

Scene  I. — Mangolia  Glut)  Room. 

Scene  II. — Meeting  Room  of  Junior  Holy  Name. 


A 


ACT.  I. 

Scene  I. 

Time — 3:30  P.  M.  Mid-June. 

Scene — Street  corner.  Children  just  dismissed  from  school. 

People  passing  hack  and  forth. 

Moore^  Foster_,  Pierce,  Wise,  Donovan,  Werner  enter  carry¬ 
ing  school  hooks.  Groups  of  children  pass  along  on  the 
sidewalk.  Two  hoys  discovered  pitching  pennies  when 
the  curtain  goes  up. 

Moore — One  more  week,  kids,  an’  then  school  will  be  out. 
Then  I’m  goin’  fishin’. 

Foster — If  I  don’t  pass.  Dad  said  I’d  have  to  hoe  beans 
all  summer. 

Pierce — That’s  cause  you  ain’t  got  no  bean. 

Foster — [Ironically]  Say,  but  you’re  some  smart  guy! 
Wise — Dude  Weeman’s  goin’  to  stylish  ’cademy  in  the 
East  where  rich  guys  go. 

Donovan — Who  told  you^t 

Wise — His  ma.  Said  kids  round  here  too  rough. 

Werner — Huh !  Dude  never  goes  with  us  guys  anyhow, 
so  how  does  he  know? 

Templeton — That’s  right.  Dude  hangs  out  at  the — what’s 
that  you  call  that  place? 

Bayfield — Mangolia  Club,  you  boob. 

Templeton — Mangolia  Club — yeh,  that’s  it. 

Bayfield — Dude’s  stuck  on  himself  anyhow.  Like  to  bat 
him  one  [striking  palm  with  fist]. 

Eyre — Yeh,  so  would  I,  too  I 
Higgins — That  ain’t  ’lowed. 

Eyre — Why  ain’t  it? 

Higgins — Shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.  Shalt  not 

kill! 

Eyre — Huh !  who’s  killin’,  I’d  like  to  know  ? 

Higgins — Well,  ’tain’t  allowed,  that’s  all.  Didn’t  I  punch 
a  kid  an’  didn’t  I  get  it  at  confesh’  next  Saturday! 

Johnson — Dude  don’t  belong  to  the  Junior  Holy  Name, 
does  he  ? 

Lennihan — Nab  ;  an’  he  never  goes  to  the  gym,  either. 
Tucker — Course  he  don’t;  I’d  biff  him  one  with  the  boxin’ 
gloves  if  he  did. 

Higgins — That  ain’t  allowed. 

Tucker — Huh,  where  d’^^e  get  that  stuff? 

Higgins — Shalt  love  thv  neighbor  as  thvself.  Shalt  not 

kill. 


5 


Regan — Higgins,  what  shu  tryin’  to  give  us? 

Higgins — Well,  ain’t  that  the  catechism?  An’  didn’t  I 
punch  a  guy  once  an’  didn’t  I  get  it  next  Saturday? 

Regan — Well,  he’s  a  dude.  ’Spect  he  should  join  some 
girls’  club. 

Tucker — Like  to  biff  him  one  ffrst. 

Anderson — What  fur? 

Tucker — So  his  nose  would  bleed,  an’  then  I  bet  shu  he’d 
be  a  kid. 

McCal)e — Well,  if  a  kid  wants  to  go  East  to  school,  what’s 
the  diff? 

Moore — Lots  a  diff. 

McCahe — Well,  what  diff? 

Moore — Well,  lie’ll  get  in  with  a  bunch  of  smart  guys,  an’ 
he  Avon’t  go  to  confession  any  more. 

Higgins — That’s  rash  judgment. 

Tucker — Say,  Hig,  you  must  be  tryin’  for  the  job  o’  teach- 
in’  Sunday  School. 

Higgins — {Looking  at  the  others']  Well,  ain’t  it  right,  kids, 
ain’t  it  right?  Judge  not  an’  thou  shalt  not  be  judged. 

Regan — Sa}^,  kids,  ain’t  that  aAvful?  Just  Avhen  you  want 
to  do  somethin’  a’Ou  Avant  to,  another  guy  comes  in  an’  says, 
‘‘Thou  shalt  not,”  or  somethin’. 

Moore — Hig  is  right,  kids,  Hig  is  right.  We  ain’t  got  no 
business  talkin’  about  Dude,  ’cause  it’s  Avrong  to  knock  a  guy. 

Tucker — Well,  I’d  like  to  knock  him  one  good  one  on  the 
nose,  an’  then  he  could  go  East  to  that  ’cademy  or  AvhereA^er 
he  Avanted  to. 

Anderson — Sister  said  we  shouldn’t  be  scrappin’. 

McCahe- — Naw,  she  didn’t  say  “scrappin’.” 

Anderson — Well,  what  did  she  say  then? 

McCahe — She  said  [imitating],  “Boys,  boys,  you  must  not 
engage  in  rude  fighting.” 

Lenniha?! — Rude  fighting!  Good  night! 

McCahc — Yep,  rude  fightin’  [illustrating]  meanin’  upper¬ 
cuts  an’  such. 

Eyre — Say,  kids,  let’s  quit  crabbin’,  live  in  peace  an’  har¬ 
mony  an’  go  to  the  gym. 

Bayfield — Amen ! 

Werner — Ain’t  got  my  tennis  shoes. 

Bayfield — What’s  the  diff? 

Donovan — Lots  o’  diff.  You  let  Father  Hyland  see  you 
Avithout  tennis  shoes  an’  jou’ll  find  out  what’s  the  diff. 

Bayfield — Well,  I  guess  he  saw  me  without  tennis  shoes 
t’other  day  an’  he  didn’t  do  nothin’. 

Donovan — Aw,  what  shu  givin’  us? 


6 


Bayfield — On  the  square. 

Donovan — Tell  us  ’bout  it. 

Bayfield — Well,  I  jes’  went  into  the  gym  without  my  .ten¬ 
nis  shoes  an’  began  placin’.  Father  Hyland  comes  in  an’  says 
[imitatingly  “Young  man,  where  are  your  tennis  shoes?” 
“Home,”  says  I.  “Best  go  an’  get  ’em,”  says  he.  “O,  I  don’t 
know  ’bout  that,”  says  I.  “Well,  I  know,”  says  he.  “O,  I  don’t 
think  so,”  says  I.  “All  right,  then,”  says  Father  Hyland,  “an’ 
excuse  me,  an’  I  beg  your  pardon.” 

Wise — [Ironically]  Yes,  you  said  all  that! 

Anderson — [Ironically]  O,  yes,  you  did! 

Bayfield — Well,  ain’t  it  the  truth? 

Wise — No,  of  course  ’tain’t,  an’  you  know  ’tain’t. 
Anderson — No,  sir-ee,  it’s  a  lie. 

Eyre — Yes,  sir,  a  lie. 

Bayfield — Well,  it’s  a  lie  in  fun,  an’  that  ain’t  no  lie. 

Moore — Sa}’,  kids,  it’s  near  four  o’clock;  let’s  go  to  the 
gym. 

Bayfield — Yeh,  I  want  a  little  basket-ball. 

Wise — An’  I  want  a  little  boxin’. 

Werner — An’  I  want  a  few  swings  on  the  bar. 

Johnson — An’  I  want  a  game  of  indoor. 

Tucker — Cornin’,  Lemon? 

Lennihan — Naw;  got  to  go  to  the  hardware  store  for  my 

dad. 

Tucker — Cornin’,  Hig? 

Higgins — Can’t;  got  to  mow  the  lawn. 

Moore — Now,  fellows,  let’s  play  fair  an’  have  a  good  time. 
Bayfield — An’  say,  fellows,  don’t  let  us  forget  and  ask  Fa¬ 
ther  Hyland  about  the  circus. 

Eyre — That’s  right,  the  circus!  Who’ll  ask  the  permish? 
Bayfield — The  president  an’  vice-president,  of  course. 
Werner — That’s  right,  Frank  an’  Bill. 

[Exeunt  all  except  Higgins  and  Lennihan,  who  continue  to 
pitch  pennies.  Enter  TFeeman.] 

Higgins — Hello,  Dude.  Where  you  goin’? 

Weenian — [Coldly]  To  the  club. 

Higgins — Why  don’t  shu  come  into  the  gym  with  the 
fellows? 

Weeman — Don’t  care  to;  they’re  so  rough.  Besides,  I’ve 
a  swell  time  over  at  the  club. 

Lennihan — Gee,  Dude,  you  ought  to  get  in  with  the  bunch. 
Those  club  fellows  are  stuck  up;  besides,  3^011  don’t  belong  with 
them. 


7 


Weeman — Well,  I  guess  I  do.  Do  you  suppose  I’m  goin’ 
to  stick  around  with  a  bunch  of  rough-necks?  No,  sir — ^the 
club.for  me ! 

Higgins — Now  look  here.  Dude,  you’ll  be  sorry  some  day. 
You  know  Father  Hyland  wants  every  kid  to  join  the  Junior 
Holy  Name.  You  might  just  as  well  stick  around  with  your 
own  crowd. 

Weeman — Nix  on  that!  Don’t  catch  me  joinin’  that  thing. 
Don’t  have  to;  goin’  to  Waverly  ’Cademy  in  September. 

Lennihan — You’ll  be  sorry  for  goin’  way  off  there.  Now 
see  if  you  don’t! 

Weeman — Well,  I’m  goin’  all  right.  I’ll  tell  Father  Hy¬ 
land  this  afternoon.  See  me  have  a  good  time  when  I  go  East ! 

[Exit.'] 

Higgins — Say,  Lemon,  I’m  sorry  for  that  kid. 

Lennihan — Why  ? 

Higgins — ’Cause  he  runs  round  with  a  bunch  he  don’t  be¬ 
long  to  an’  don’t  stick  in  with  his  own  crowd. 

Lennihan — Guess  that’s  right.  Well,  so  long,  Hig.  I’ve 
got  to  go  to  the  hardware  store  for  my  dad.  [Exit.] 

Higgins — Dude,  the  poor  kid!  Gosh,  I  wish  he’d  join  the 
Junior  Holy  Name,  and  go  to  Communion  with  the  rest  o’  the 
kids ! 

[Curtain.] 

Scene  II. 

Ti  ME — if  P.  ]\I .  ]\d^'i(%~June, 

Scene — Father  Hyland’s  Study.  Large  table  in  centre  of 
room.  A  bookcase,  chairs,  pictures,  etc.  Father  Hyland 
seated  at  desk  writing  when  curtain  goes  up.  Desk  tele¬ 
phone. 

Father  Hyland — Well,  I  must  get  this  lecture  on  the 
‘Worth  of  an  Ideal”  for  the  Women’s  Guild  of  Combined 
Charities  for  Wednesday  evening  if  I  have  to  sit  up  all  night. 
I  wonder  Avhy  I  was  so  foolish  as  to  consent  to  lecture  in  the 
first  place.  A  lot  of  women — mostly  idle,  mostly  talking 
women,  for  an  audience.  Surely  one  has  enough  to  do  Avithout 
starting  off  on  the  lecture  platform — God  save  the  mark!  Now 
there’s  the  St.  Vincent  de  Paul,  the  Young  Men’s  Club,  the 
Sodalities,  and,  worst  of  all,  the  crowd  of  Junior  Holy  Name 
boys.  [Pauses.]  Why  are  boys,  anyhow?  [Pauses.]  I  won¬ 
der.  Well,  Avell,  this  won’t  do;  I  must  get  after  that  lecture. 
Let  me  see?  “The  Worth  of  an  Ideal?”  What  is  an  ideal 
worth,  to  begin  with?  Or  rather,  what  is  an  ideal?  [Pauses.] 
I  wonder?  But  I  mus’n’t  let  the  Women’s  Guild  of  Combined 
Charities  know  I’m  wondering.  Let  me  see?  [Pauses  to  re- 


8 


fleet.]  How  shall  I  begin?  [Pauses.]  Very  dignified  in  this 
manner.  [Begins  writing.]  ‘‘My  dear  Ladies  of  the  Women’s 
Guild  of  the  Combined  Charities :  It  gives  me  great  pleasure 
to  open”  [door  hell  rings]  the  door  in  this  instance.  Come  in. 

[Enters  Book  Agent,  loho  carries  large  suit-case.] 

Book  Agent— [Smiling]  Father  Hyland,  I  believe? 

Father  Hyland — [Yery  stiffly]  Yes,  sir. 

Book  Agent — Father,  I  represent  the  Belmont  Publishing 
Company  of  New  York,  that  is  just  putting  on  the  market  a 
twelve-volume  Encyclopedia  containing  all  possible  informa¬ 
tion  on  every  conceivable  subject.  No  business,  professional 
or  educated  man  can  afford  to  be  without  this  most  imposing 
product  of  the  human  brain.  Now,  if  you’ll  just  give  me  a  few 
moments  of  your  valuable  time.  I’ll  produce  for  3  ou  [begins  to 
open  a  suit-case]. 

Father  Hyland — [Standing^  up]  My  dear  man,  I’m  busy. 

Book  Agent — [Continuing  to  open  suit-case]  Yes,  but  Fa¬ 
ther,  no  man — 

Father  Hyland — I’m  busy,  I  tell  you ! 

Book  Agent — [Still  icorking  at  the  suit-case]  Now,  Fa¬ 
ther,  in  one  moment  I’ll  show  you  the  whole  assortment  of — 

Father  Hyland — I’m  busy;  I  don’t  want  your  whole  as¬ 
sortment.  Go ! 

Book  Agent — Well,  then,  perhaps  you’ll  permit  me  to  leave 
some  literature. 

Father  Hyland — No,  I  don’t  want  you  to  leave  literature. 
I  want  you  to  leave.  [Exit  Book  Agent  slowly.] 

Book  Agent — [Going  out]  Good  day.  Father. 

Father  Hyland — Good  day  to  j^ou,  sir.  Book  agents  have 
enough  brass  for  a  whole  brass  foundry !  Well,  I’m  rid  of  him, 
anyhow.  [Goes  hack  to  his  desk  and  reads  his  MS.]  “My 
dear  Ladies  of  the  Women’s  Guild  of  Combined  Charities :  It 
gives  me  great  pleasure  to  open  [icrites]  your  first  general 
meeting  this  evening.  I  feel  3^ou  are  women  of  vast  purposes 
and  high  ideals,  hence  I  have  decided  to — ”  [Telephone  rings.] 
Good  heavens!  Can’t  a  man  have  a  minute  to  himself !  [Takes 
down  receiver.]  334.  Yes,  this  is  the  priest’s  house.  When 
will  the  10  :30  mass  be  next  Sunda}"  ?  Wh}^,  at  10  :30  most  prob¬ 
ably',  madam.  [Hamgs  up  receiver  with  a  hang.]  Let  me  see? 
Where  was  I?  O,  yes — “I  feel  [reading]  you  are  women  of 
vast  purposes  and  high  ideals,  hence  I  have  decided  to  [begins 
ivriting]  to  speak  to  you  on  the  ‘Worth  of  an  Ideal.’  The  world 
today  is  sadly  in  need  of  uplift,  of  an  awakening  to  the  touch 
of  holier  things.”  [Door  hell.  Enter  Little  Girl.] 

JAttle  Girl — Father,  mamma  wants  to  know  if  you  found 
her  beads? 


9 


Father  Hyland — No,  dear,  I  didn’t  find  her  beads.  Where 
did  she  lose  them? 

Little  Girl — Somewhere. 

Father  Hyland — Somewhere?  No  doubt,  no  doubt,  indeed. 

Little  Girl — ^What’ll  I  tell  my  mamma? 

Father  Hyland — Tell  your  mamma  to  be  good  and  not  to 
lose  her  beads  next  time.  {Gives  Little  Girl  a  pair  of  heads. 
She  goes  out  and,  returns  again  almost  immediately.] 

Little  Girl — Thank  you.  Father.  Good-bye,  Father. 

Father  H. —  [With  mock-solemnity)  Madam,  I  say  you 
farewell.  [After  a  pause.]  ^The  world  today  is  sadly  in  need 
of  uplift,  of  an  awakening  to  the  touch  of  holier  things.  [Re¬ 
sumes  writing.]  The  age  is  a  sordid  one.  Getting  and  spend¬ 
ing  we  lay  Avaste  our  powers.  The  clamor  for  money  is  dinned 
into  our  ears  until  Ave  grow  heart-sick.”  [Door  bell  rings.] 
Come  in!  [Enter  Tvamp.] 

Father  Hyland — [Aside.]  Yes,  here  comes  the  clamor  for 
money. 

Tramp — Father,  I’s  just  a  guy  as  got  out  o’  the  hospital  in 
South  America  an’  had  to  tramp  all  the  way  here. 

Father  Hyland — [Ironically.]  Considerable  journey,  I’m 
sure ! 

Tramp — [Approaching  nearer  to  the  desk.]  HaA^en’t  had 
a  bite  since  I  left  there,  an’  I’d  be  jest  aAvful  thankful.  Father, 
if  you’d  haA'e  a  feAv^  spare  dimes  about  you. 

Father  Hyland — [With  a  show  of  reflecting.]  A  few 
dimes?  That’s  thirty  cents.  Times  are  hard,  friend.  We  have 
any  number  of  deserving  poor  right  here  at  home. 

Tramp — [Appealingly.]  Father,  you  surely  wouldn’t  re¬ 
fuse  a  poor  guy  thirty  cents? 

Father  Hyland — I  wouldn’t,  eh?  You  don’t  know  me,  my 
dear  sir. 

Tramp — ’Fore  God,  Father,  I  used  to  be  a  good  guy  in  my 
young  days !  Served  mass  when  I  was  a  kid ;  have  six  broth¬ 
ers  priests  and  four  sisters  nuns. 

Father  Hyland — My,  but  you  must  belong  to  a  pious  fam¬ 
ily!  Noav  look  here,  friend,  I  know  every  word  you  say  is  a 
lie.  You  liA^e  a  lie  and,  of  course,  you  cannot  help  telling  lies ! 
Noav,  if  I  give  you  thirty  cents  you’d  spend  it  in  the  next  sa¬ 
loon. 

Tramp — No,  honest.  Father,  I  won’t.  I’ll  spend  ten  cents 
for  a  drink  and  twenty  cents  for  grub. 

Father  Hyland — [Taking  change  from  his  pocket  and 
counting  with  deliberation.]  Then  I’ll  giA^e  you  twenty  cents 
for  the  grub  and  you  get  along  without  any  drink. 


10 


Tramp — Thank  you,  Father.  [Aside.]  Guess  ITl  change 
my  mind.  I’ll  spend  a  dime  for  the  grub  and  a  dime  for  a 
drink.  [Exit.] 

Father  Hyland — That’s  positively  the  last  time  I’ll  ever 
give  money  to  a  tramp!  [Goes  hack  to  lecture.]  Let  me  see? 
[Reading.]  Yes — “The  clamor  for  money  is  dinned  into  our 
ears  until  we  grow  heart-sick.”  Then  the  tramp  came  in  at 
this  point  with  six  brothers  priests  and  four  sisters  nuns  and, 
of  course,  my  heart  melted.  Let  me  think?  Yes — [Writing.] 
“With  the  world  of  today,  what  we  have  is  set  above  what  we 
are.  A  man’s  money  is  more  than  a  man’s  self.  To  un” — 
[Telephone.  Answers  sharptly.]  Well?  The  Range  Factory? 
Do  we  install  hot-air  plants?  [Disgusted.]  No,  no,  you  mis¬ 
take.  We  don’t  deliver  hot  air — at  least  not  always.  Good 
day,  sir.  Don’t  mention  it.  [Resumes  writing^.]  “To  under¬ 
stand  fully  the  meaning  of  life  we  must  hold  the  ideals  of  life 
highly.  Truth,  justice,  chariW,  mercy  are  to  guide  us  in  our 
dealings  with  our  fellows.”  [Door  hell  rings.]  Now  how  can 
a  man  think?  Come  in! 

[Enter  Moore  and  Foster.] 

Father  Hyland— WcWl 

Moore — Father,  the  kids  sent  us  guys  over  to  ask  to  get 
out  o’  school  tomorrow  so  we  could  see  the  circus. 

Father  Hyland — [Pretending  with  mock-solemnity  not  to 
vndcrstand.]  I  do  not  get  your  thought. 

Foster — The  guys  said  we  should  come  over  and  ask  you  to 
let  us  go  to  the  circus. 

Father  Hyland —  [Pretending  to  he  mystified.]  Guys? 
Kids?  I  do  not  comprehend. 

Moore — Well,  we’d  like  to  go  to  the  circus. 

Father  Hyland — Who? 

Moore  and  Foster — Us  kids. 

Father  Hyland — Kids?  Kids?  Are  not  kids  young  goats? 

Moore — [Coaxing.]  Please,  Father,  ken  we? 

Father  Hyland — No,  you  kent! 

Foster — Just  this  once.  Father,  please!  We  haven’t  been 
to  a  circus  this  year. 

Father  Hyland — [With  mock  dramatic  effect.]  Sirs,  I  am 
not  in  the  giving  mood  today. 

Moore — Gee,  whiz  ! 

X  Foster — Please,  Father,  loosen  uj) ! 

Father  Hyland — I  repeat,  I  am  not  in  the  giving  mood 
-todav. 

t 

Moore — Won’t  you  please.  Father! 

Foster — O,  please! 

Father  Hyland — [Reflects  for  a  moment.]  Boys,  you  may 


11 


•  ,*1 


go.  Keturn  and  ask  correctly.  After  that,  we  will  consider 
your  request.  [A  sweep  of  the  hand  indicating  dismissal.]  You 
may  now  consider  the  matter  of  your  departure. 

Moore  and  Foster — [Going  out  slowly.]  Thank  you,  Fa¬ 
ther. 

Father  Hyland — Those  boys !  And  yet  what  would  life  be 
if  there  were  no  boys!  Well,  weTl  try  the  lecture  again. 
[Reads.]  ‘Truth,  justice,  charity,  mercy  are  to  guide  us  in  our 
dealings  with  our  fellows.  [Writes.]  “Men  today  live  high  and 
think  low.”  Good  contrast,  that!  “They  live  on  the  roof  and 
think  in  the  cellar.”  A  touch  of  humor  for  the  low-brows. 
[Door  hell  rings.]  Come  in!  [Louder.]  Come  in!  [Enter 
young  couple  who  appear  very  hashful.]  Ah,  John,  how  do  you 
do;  and  Catherine,  how  are  you?  [Each  one  answers  'A^ery 
well,  Father,  thank  you.”]  Be  seated.  [They  sit  down.  A  long 
pause  during  which  John  fingers  his  hat  and  looks  at  Cathe¬ 
rine.  She  in  turn  shows  signs  of  hashf illness.] 

John — [Hesitating  and  looking  at  Catherine.]  Well,  Fa¬ 
ther,  we  came  in  to-to  be  called. 

Father  Hyland — In  to  be  called?  To  be  called  what? 

John — Sunda3^ 

Father  Hyland — Sunday? 

John — Yes,  next  Sunday.  We  have  been  thinking  about — 
are  going — have  decided  to  be  married. 

Father  Hyland — [Pretending  to  he  enlightened.]  O!  I 
see,  I  see.  [Pause.]  How  old  are  you,  John?  [Pause,  during 
ivhich  he  looks  at  John.] 

J ohn — Twenty- two.  Father. 

Father  Hyland — And  you,  Catherine?  [Pause,  during 
lohich  he  looks  at  Catherine.] 

C a therin e — T w en ty ,  F a th er . 

Father  Hyland — [After  another  long  pause,  looking  from 
one  to  the  other,  in  an  aside.]  So  young  and  j^et  so  wise!  [To 
them.]  Yes,  V\\  announce  you. 

Catherine — [Rising  and  tvalking  to  the  desk.]  Father,  I’d 
like  to  have  two  bridesmaids. 

Father  Hyland  —  Certainl}^  —  or  a  dozen  if  you  like. 
[Telephone.]  Yes,  this  is  Father  Hyland.  O,  you’re  Mrs. 
Brown  and  you’d  like  to  call  in  to  see  me  on  some  business. 
Well,  the  fact  is,  Mrs.  Brown,  I’m  very  busy  most  of  the  day — 
Oh,  you  want  to  rent  a  pew !  Why,  sure ;  come  right  up  any 
time.  [Hangs  up  telephone,  walks  up  to  John  and  shakes 
hands.]  Good  day  and  good  luck  to  you,  John. 

JoJm — Good  day,  and  thank  you.  Father. 

Father  Hyland— [Shaking  hands  with  Catherine.]  Good 
afternoon,  Catherine. 


12 


Catherine — Good  afternoon,  Father. 

Father  Hyland — [Still  standmg,  muses.']  ^‘They  live  on 
the  roof  and  think  in  the  cellar!”  [Sits  down  and  resumes 
writing.]  ‘‘The  passion  for  speech  leaves  no  time  for  calm  con¬ 
secutive  thinking.  People’s  tongues  are  worn  from  usage,  while 
their  brains  gather  rust.  The  old  domestic  virtues  are  forgot¬ 
ten  in  the  clamor  for  the  sentimentallv  heroic.  Women  think.” 
[Door  hell  rings.]  Heavens!  These  interruptions  are  unbear¬ 
able.  Come  in!  [Enter  Moore  and  Foster.]  Again! 

Moore  and  Foster — [Boiving  very  solemnly.]  Father,  the 
boys  of  your  parochial  school  most  humbly  request  you  to  give 
them  permission  to  see  the  circus  which  will  appear  in  our 
city  tomorrow.  [Both  how  second  time.] 

Father  Hyland — [With  mock  solemnity.]  We  will  con¬ 
sider  your  request  and  will  answer  you  in  a  less  dispassioned 
moment.  Go, — and  stand  not  upon  the  order  of  your  going. 
[They  go  out  slowly.  Telephone  hell  rings.]  Well!  You  want 
to  know  if  we  have  any  fresh  eggs?  Why,  certainly  not — we 
don’t  keep  Such  things;  everything  is  stale  around  here.  No, 
this  is  not  the  grocery.  Where  is  the  grocery?  Consult  the 
telephone  book  and  I’m  sure  you’ll  locate  one.  Good  after¬ 
noon  !  [Enter  Weeman  dressed  very  stylishly.]  [Aside.]  An¬ 
other  interruption!  Heavens,  I’ll  never  get  that  lecture!  Well? 

Weeman — I  just  dropped  in  to  tell  you  I’ve  decided  to  go 
to  Waverly  Academy  next  September. 

Father  Hyland — [Ironically.]  O!  so  you’ve  decided,  eh? 
And  who  are  you  to  decide?  A  mere  boy,  a  green  youngster,  a 
lad  still  in  his  salad  days.  So,  so,  you  have  decided  to  attend 
Waverly  Academy! 

Weeman — [Doggedly.]  Well,  my  mother  said  I  could  go. 

Father  Hyland — Of  course,  of  course.  Mothers  sometimes 
do  very  foolish  things. 

Weeman — Besides,  I  don’t  like  it  round  here.  The  boys 
aren’t  a  bit  nice.  Mother  said  I  must  get  in  with  a  better  set. 

Father  Hyland — [Forcibly.]  Young  man,  I  know  your 
case.  It’s  as  common  as  house  flies.  You’ve  money  and  you 
want  to  move  in  big  company.  It’s  the  curse  of  money  that 
wlien  people  get  it,  they  want  to  pass  out  of  the  lives  of  simple 
people  to  the  lives  of  people  who  spend  and  enjoy.  You  think 
because  you’ve  more  money  than  other  boys  around  here,  you’re 
better  than  they  are.  A  big  purse  often  means  a  big  head.  Of 
course  you  don’t  care  for  our  boys ;  they  don’t  wear  belts,  and 
haven’t  white  socks  and  can’t  shoot  round  corners  in  a  Pierce- 
Arrow.  Of  course  vou  don’t  care  for  them.  That’s  whv  you’re 
never  with  them  at  Communion;  that’s  whv  you’re  not  at  their 
meetings;  that’s  why  you  weren’t  with  them  at  their  ])icnic. 


13 


You  move  higher  up — at  the  Maiigolia  Club,  out  at  the  golf 
links,  off  at  the  lakes  where  the  rich  people  enjoy  themselves. 
Young  man,  you  have  a  good  father;  but  if  he  did  the  right 
thing  with  you,  you’d  be  driving  a  team  of  horses  instead  of  a 
Pierce-Arrow.  Young  man,  you’re  getting  into  the  wrong  line 
of  march.  You  belong  to  the  Holy  Name  Juniors  and  you’re 
trying  to  keep  step  with  the  silk  stockings  of  the  Mangolia 
Club.  You  can’t  keep  up  with  them — their  ])ace  is  too  swift. 
Just  see  where  you’ll  land! 

Weeman — [Doggedly.]  Well,  I’ve  made  up  my  mind  to  go. 

Father  Hyland — Of  course  3"ou  have,  and  I’m  not  hoping  to 
alter  it.  Before  a  man  can  change  his  mind  he  must  have  a 
mind  to  change.  Go  ahead !  When  ,vou’re  wrecked  on  the 
white-decked  Mangolia  we’ll  send  a  life-boat  with  some  Holy 
Name  bo^^s  to  get  you.  In  trying  to  keep  ,your  socks  white  see 
that  .your  soul  doesn’t  get  soiled.  [Exit  Weeman.]  And  .vet 
he’s  one  of  m.v  own  bo.vs.  I  niusn’t  let  him  go  this  way.  [Walks 
to  the  door  and  calls  “Weeman.'”  Re-enter  Weeman.] 

Father  Hyland — Good-bve  and  God  bless  you  I 

Weeman — Good-bye,  Father.  [Exit  slowly.] 

Father  Hyland — And  I’m  supposed  to  lecture  to  a  lot  of 
socieW  women!  Hang  the  lecture!  What’s  the  use?  I’m 
writing  about  high  thinking  and  simple  liying,  and  here  is  one 
of  1113^  own  bo.ys  going  to  the  devil.  [Telephone  rings.  Takes 
up  receiver  quickly.]  Hello!  What’s  the  matter  with  me? 
Nothing.  I  seem  peeved?  Well,  I  can’t  be  grinning  all  the 
time  like  an  ape,  can  I?  How’s  the  lecture  coming?  What 
lecture?  O!  the  lecture  to  the  Women’s  Club.  Well,  that’s 
called  off.  When?  Now.  Yes,  now;  right  now.  Good  after¬ 
noon.  [Hangs  up  receiver.]  No,  lecturing  is  not  the  business 
for  me.  If  I  start  it  eveiw  boy  in  the  })arish  will  be  s|)ending 
his  money  in  Waverl.v  Academ3’  and  losing  his  faith.  [Throw¬ 
ing  away  each  one  of  the  sheets  of  paper  on  which  he  has  tvrit- 
ten  his  lecture.]  There  .you  go,  “high  thinking  and  low  living”; 
there  .vou  go,  “culture  and  art” ;  there  .you  go,  “high  ideals  and 
lofty  purposes.”  [Takes  up  his  office  hook  and  sits  down. 
Makes  sign  of  the  cross.]  Guess  I’ll  pra.y  for  the  Women’s 
Guild  of  Combined  Charities.  [As  he  hegxns.  door  and  tele¬ 
phone  hells  ring.  He  looks  from  one  to  the  other  hopelessly.] 

[Curtain.] 


14 


ACT  II. 

Scene  I. 

Time — 10  P.  J/.,  two  days  hefot'e  Weeman  leaves  for  Wat'erh/ 

Academy  in  September. 

Scene — Manyolia  Chib  Room.  Pennants  hung  from  the  icalls. 
Pictures  of  actresses,  baseball  players,  etc.  A  lounge,  rock¬ 
ing  chairs,  a  table,  etc. 

Bkown^  S:NnTHSON^  Dixon,  Chesterton_,  Stanton^  Hewitt  arc 
sitting  or  lolling  around  the  room  in  different  attitudes, 
llroicn — Say,  Smithson,  Iioav  did  you  like  tlie  show  last 
night? 

Smithson — Punk;  too  much  preach.  Something  spicy  for 
me. 

Stanton — I  didn’t  go.  Saw  it  in  Chicago;  went  for  a  ride 
instead  and  got  home  at  twelye. 

Dixon — I  was  at  the  park.  Hand  me  a  cigaret,  Ernie. 
[Smithson  hands  silver  case  of  cigarets.] 

Chesterton — Say,  fellows,  do  you  know  that  bunch  o’  girls 
we  saw  at  the  Fraternity  dance  Wednesday? 

Hewitt — Huh,  huh.  Peaches,  weren’t  they? 

Chesterton — Huh,  huh.  Well,  I’m  goin’  to  take  ’em  out 
ridin’  Thursday  night.  We’ll  haye  supper  at  the  Hayerly  Club, 
and  then  home  by  one-thirty  A.  M. ! 

Brown — What  will  the  old  man  say,  dies? 

Chesterton — O,  the  old  man  won’t  mind.  He  goes  to  bed 
at  eight-thirty,  and  at  one-thirty  A.  M.  ’twould  take  a  cannon 
to  wake  him. 

Smithson — Let’s  haye  a  game,  fellows.  Get  the  cards,  Dix. 
This  thing  is  too  dull.  [Dixon  gets  pack  of  cards;  the  others 
bring  chairs  to  the  center  of  room.  All  sit  around  tabic  for  a 
game  of  poker. ^ 

Stanton — What’s  the  limit,  fellows — a  quarter? 

Hewitt — Say,  but  you’re  cheap,  Stan  I  Let’s  make  it  worth 
while.  Fifty  cents  and  Clies  for  pot-master. 

Stanton — All  right.  [They  begin  to  play  the  game.  Wee- 
man  enter  s.'\ 

Brown — Hello,  Weeman  old  boy.  Where  the  deyil  haye 
3mu  been  keepin’  yourself?  Hayen’t  seen  you  for  a  week.  Home 
with  mamma,  eh?  [All  laugh.'\ 

^yeeman — [Sivaggering.^  Nope.  Old  lady  hasn’t  seen  me 
for  a  couple  of  days ;  been  in  Chicago. 

Stanton — Coin’  it  fast,  eh? 

Weeman — O,  some.  Leaving  for  the  East  Friday. 

Stanton — Where  to?  [To  Dixon.]  Deal,  Dix. 

Weeman — Wayerly  Academy. 

e  C' 


15 


Stanton — Pretty  swell  place.  I’m  goin’  to  Exmore.  [To 
the  dealer.]  Pass! 

Brow^n — [To  the  dealer.]  Three,  Dix.  [To  Weeman.] 

your  crowd  going  with  you,  Weeman? 

Weeman — [Showing  surprise.]  My  crowd? 

Brown — [To  the  players.]  I’m  in.  Chip  in,  Stan.  [To 
Weeman.]  You  know  what  I  mean.  That  bunch  you  hang  out 
with  down  there  on  the  North  Side. 

Weeman — I  don’t  get  shu. 

Chesterton — [To  dealer.]  Two  cards. 

Stanton — [To  dealer.]  Three. 

Broivn — Yes,  you  do  get  me.  I  mean  that  crowd  of  fel¬ 
lows  down  there  where  3"ou  live. 

Weeman — O,  I  got  shu  now.  I  never  go  with  that  bunch. 

Hewitt — [To  players.]  I  bet  a  quarter. 

Brown — [To  Hewitt.]  See  you.  [To  Weeman.]  You’d 
better  not  if  you  want  to  keep  in  here. 

Weeman — Don’t  be  afraid.  I’ll  keep  good  and  far  away 
from  that  crowd. 

Chesterton — Play,  Dix.  Hand  me  a  cigaret,  Smithson. 
Have  one,  Weeman.  [They  light  cigar ets.  Knock  on  the  door.] 

Brown — [Shouting  so  as  to  he  heard  outside.]  Who’s 
there  ? 

Chesterton — Be  careful.  Brown!  You  knoAv  gamblin’  is 
against  the  law. 

Smithson — Say,  that’s  right,  fellows.  And  it  might  be  a 
cop,  too!  [Another  knock.]  Go  and  see  who  it  is,  Dix.  [Dixon 
goes  to  door  and  opens.  Voice  outside:  “Is  Dude  Weeman  in 
there?  His  mother  wants  him.’’] 

Smithson — [To  those  inside  in  a  loud  whisper.]  Two 
rough-necks  from  Weeman’s  section,  fellows. 

Broivn — [To  those  inside.]  Say,  fellows,  let’s  move  the 
table  away,  get  the  chips  off  and  have  some  fun  with  ’em. 
That’s  as  much  sport  as  anything  else.  [They  move  the  table 
to  one  side  and  gather  up  the  chips.] 

[Enter  Moore  and  Foster.] 

Smithson — [Very  forcibly  so  as  to  frighten  the  two.]  Well, 
what  brings  you  in  here,  I’d  like  to  know?  Can’t  you  get  it 
into  your  head  that  this  is  a  private  club? 

Moore — [Surveying  the  room  leisurely.]  Well,  we- a — 
[Seeing  Weeman.]  O,  hello.  Dude!  [To  Moore.]  Well,  we 
came  in  because  you  asked  us  to.  We  knocked  first. 

Smithson — 6,  j^ou  knocked  first,  eh?  Well,  probably  you’ll 
get  knocked  second. 

Moore — Don’t  know.  You  can’t  tell. 

Dixon — [To  Foster.]  And  where  do  you  live? 


16 


Foster — In  a  house. 

Dixoii — No,  not  in  a  house;  in  a  shack. 

Foster — Is  it?  Come  round  some  time  an’  make  sure. 

Dixon — [Ii^ojiically.]  Yes,  I  will!  I’d  like  to  see  myself 
going  into  the  rickety  house  where  your  old  man  lives. 

Foster — Now  listen,  fellow,  you  can  say  all  you  want  to 
about  the  old  shack,  as  you  call  it.  But  don’t  you  say  anything 
’bout  my  dad. 

Dixon — Well,  I  guess  I’ll  say  whatever  I  feel  like. 

Foster — No  you  won’t — if  it’s  ’bout  my  dad. 

Moore — [To  Dixon.]  Now  look  here.  Mister,  we  didn’t 
come  in  here  to  start  a  scrap,  an’  we  ain’t  goin’  to.  We  just 
came  in  to  tell  Dude  Weeman  his  mother  wants  him. 

Dixon — [To  Weeman.]  Huh!  Tied  to  your  ma,  eh? 

Smithson — [To  Weeman.]  Better  go  home,  dearie,  your 
ma  wants  you !  [^femhers  of  Mangolia  laugh  and  ridicule 
Weeman.] 

Weeman — [Angrily  to  Moore  and  Foster.]  Now  you  fel¬ 
lows  have  got  no  business  buttin’  in  here.  You  just  never  mind 
coinin’  in,  but  tend  to  your  own  business.  Don’t  know  you 
fellows;  don’t  want  to  have  anything  to  do  with  you,  do  you 
hear? 

Moore — Dude,  I  just  want  to  explain  that  your  mother 
sent  over  to  the  gym  to  ask  a  couple  o’  fellows  to  hunt  you  up. 
She  Avanted  to  see  you  pretty  bad.  Well,  we  decided  we’d  hunt 
you  up,  an’  that’s  why  we’re  here.  Now,  Dude,  if  you  [looking 
round  at  the  others]  or  any  of  you  guys  think  we  skulked  in 
on  3'ou  to  be  one  o’  you  or  have  anything  to  do  with  you,  you’re 
verv  much  mistaken. 

Smithson — Well,  it’s  not  likely  we’d  let  two  rough-necks 
like  vou  in  on  us — if  we  knew  it.  You’re  not  in  our  class. 

ft. 

Dixon — No,  you  belong  to  the  cheap  set.  Probably  your 
mother  takes  in  washing. 

Moore — [Stepping  toivard  Dixon.]  Now,  just  cut  that, 
kid,  or  there’ll  be  trouble. 

Dixon — [Stepping  toward  Moore.]  No,  I  Avon’t  cut  it,  you 
low-doAvn.  What  right  have  you  got  in  here,  anyway?  Get 
out — or  I’ll  kick  you  out. 

Moore — I’ll  get  out  all  right,  but  you  won’t  kick  me  out. 

Dixon — Yes,  I  will.  [Pushes  Moore.] 

Moore — Be  careful,  felloAA^  I’ll  get  out  all  right;  but  I 
don’t  AA’ant  you  to  think  you  can  kick  me  out. 

Chesterton — [Stepping,  up.]  Biff  him  one,  Dix! 

Stanton — Punch  his  face  for  him ! 

Smithson — Smash  him,  Dix,  or  I  Avill! 


17 


Foster — [Stepping  between  Moore  and  Smiths jn.]  No, 
sir  !  Yon  just  stay  right  where  you  are. 

Brown — Say,  fellows,  let’s  all  clean  up  on  ’em ! 

Moore — [Loo'ks  around  and  counts.]  One,  two,  three,  four, 
five,  six,  seven.  Seven  ’gen  two.  Gee,  but  you’re  brave  I 

Sniithson — No,  it  don’t  take  seven.  Here’s  a  pair  of  gloves 
[hands  gloves]  an’  if  I  don’t  lick  you  alone.  I’ll  never  ride  an¬ 
other  Pierce- Arrow.  Come,  put  on  the  gloves! 

Moore — [QiiietJy.]  Don’t  think  so.  Ain’t  fond  o’  fightin’. 

Smithson — No,  you  little  measly,  beggarly  coward;  of 
course  you’re  not  fond  o’  fightin’.  Put  on  the  gloves  or  T’ll 
make  pulp  o’  you,  do  you  hear? 

Moore — [Slowly.]  Now  let  me  see?  No,  sport,  ’tain't 
that  I’m  a  coward  or  afraid  o’  vou,  for  I  ain’t.  It’s  somethin’ 
else.  Say,  Foster,  [aside  to  Foster]  do  you  think  I’m  allowed 
to  fight  the  guy?  You  know  Father  Hvland  said  we  shouldn’t 
be  pickin’  up  quarrels. 

Foster — [Aside  to  Moore.]  You  ain’t  pickin’  up  no  quar¬ 
rel;  he’s  startin’  it. 

Moore — [Aside  to  Foster.]  Think  it’s  all  right  to  go  in? 

Foster — [Aside  to  Moore.]  Sure  thing,  kid,  he’s  startin’  it. 
[During  this  conversation  S:mithsox  takes  off  coat  and  puts  on 
gloves.] 

Smithson — [Coming  near  Moore.]  So  you’re  yellow,  eh? 
You  coward! 

Moore — No,  I’m  not  yellow,  nor  a  coward,  but  L  don't  be¬ 
lieve  in  flightin’. 

Smithson — Well,  to  show  you  you’re  yellow  and  a  coward, 
take  that  and  shut  up!  [Smithson  hits  Moore  with  his  gloved 
fist  on  the  face.] 

Moore — [Flinging  off  his  coat.]  All  right,  I’m  with  you. 
[Foster  helps  him  to  put  on  gloves.  They  begin  to  fight.  Dur¬ 
ing  the  boxing  contest  Smithson’s  friends  encourage  him  with, 
‘^Biff  him,  Smithie.'”  ‘^Land  a  good  one,  Ernie. ''Lead  off!'^ 
^‘Hammer  him  one!”  etc.] 

Foster — [Keeping  behhid  Moore.]  Watch  your  o])enin’, 
Frank!  Let  him  do  the  leadin’,  kid!  Nice  guard!  [They 
.  fight  for  some  moments.  At  the  proper  time  Foster  says, 
^‘Rush  him,  kid ;  he’s  all  in.”  Moore  ru.shes  on  Smithson,  hits 
him  several  times  in  quick  succession  and  finally  knocks  Smith- 
son  out.  Foster  helps  Moore  to  take  off  the  gloves  and  to  put 
on  his  coat.  The  others  try  to  revive  Smithson.  All  the  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  MangoUa  Club  are  silent.  Foster  goes  out,  followed 
by  Moore.  Just  at  the  door  Moore  turns  round  and  looks  at 
the  group.] 


18 


Moore — Then  I’ll  tell  your  mother  you  ain’t  coinin’,  Dude. 
\^Exennt  Moore  and  Foster.  The  ManyoUa  Club  hoys  and 
AVEE:a.\N  remain  silent  as  the  curtain  goes  dotcn  sloivly.] 

[Curtain.] 

Scene  II. 

Time — N ext  evening. 

Scene — Cyninasiuni  of  Junior  Holy  Name.  Boys  tossing 
hashet-hall,  exercising  on  parallel  bars,  horizontal  bar, 
swinging  Indian  clubs,  boxing,  etc. 

Pierce — Wonder  how  Father  Hyland  found  it  out? 

Wise — How  did  he?  How  does  he  find  out  everything? 
Didn’t  he  find  out  when  “Lemon”  broke  the  sacristy  window? 
Didn’t  he  find  out  when  “Mope”  hit  “Toby”  with  an  eraser  on 
the  back  o’  the  head?  Shucks!  You  can’t  do  nothin’  he  don’t 
find  out. 

Donovan — I  know  who  told  him.  Bet  shu  Dude  did. 
Werner — Sure  o’  that? 

Donovan — Null,  ain’t  sure;  but  I  saw  Dude  goin’  in  to  se(; 
him  this  mornin’. 

Templeton — What’s  goin’  to  happen  to  you,  Frank,  old 

kid? 

Moore — Gosh,  don’t  ask  me.  Guess  I’ll  be  thrown  out  o’ 
the  society.  Father  Hjdand  is  pretty  hard  on  fightin’. 

Foster — Well,  ’twasn’t  your  fault. 

Moore — Huh,  an’  supposin’  I  tell  him  that,  what’ll  he  say? 
Foster — He’ll  say,  “Glad  to  hear  it,  Frank,  glad  to  hear 
it.” 

Moore — Yes,  he  Avill!  Here’s  what  he’ll  say:  “Substanti¬ 
ate  your  statement,  sir;  substantiate  your  statement.  In  other 
words,  sir,  make  it  apjiear.” 

Foster — An’  then  what’ll  you  say? 

« ’  • 

Moore — Mliat’ll  I  say?  Gosh,  I’ll  say  nothin’ — wont  be 
able  to  say  nothin’. 

Bayfield — Now,  fellows,  I  tell  you  ’twill  be  all  right.  Every 
one  knows  Frank  wasn’t  lookin’  for  a  sera]).  Father  Hyland 
won’t  think  a  thing  about  it. 

Moore — [Do}ibtfully.]  Won’t  he? 

Bayfield — Of  course  he  won’t.  He’ll  just  walk  in,  an’  say: 
[Imitating  tnanner  of  Father  Hyland.]  “Well,  ^fr.  ^loore, 
what’s  this  I  hear;  yoii’ye  been  fightin’?” 

Eyre — [Disgusted.]  NaAv,  not  “fightin,”  but,  “Mr.  ^loore, 
you’ve  had  a  ])u-j)u-gilistic  encounter.” 

Johnson — Yeh,  that’s  it — “pugilistic  encounter.” 


19 


Bayfield — An’  then  Moore  will  say  the  conflteor  down  to 
mea  maxima  culpa.  Then  Father  Hyland  will  say,  ^‘Did  you 
hurt  him?” 

Eyre — \^D is g listed.']  Naw,  no  ‘‘hurt  him”;  “did  you  in¬ 
flict  severe  bodily  ch-ch-astisement?” 

Johnson — Yeh,  that’s  it — “severe  bodily  chastisement.” 

Bayfield — Then  Moore,  kind  o’  proud-like,  will  say,  “I 
did.” 

Higgins — An’  Father  Hyland  will  say:  [Shaking  hands 
with  Moore  and  imitating  manner  of  Father  Hyland.]  “Well 
done,  thou  good  and  faithful  servant!”  {Enter  Father  Hy¬ 
land.] 

Father  Hyland — What?  What?  What?  [Looking  around 
over  the  lioys.] 

Higgins — Father,  [scratching  his  head  in  a  hesitating  man¬ 
ner]  another  guy  an’  I  had  an  argument  ’bout — ’bout  where 
children  go  who  ain’t  baptized. 

Lennihan — Yeh,  an’  I  thought  different  all  de  time. 

Father  Hyland — [Turning  toward  Lennihan  and  Hig- 
GINS  with  mock  solemnity.]  Young  men  I  don’t  follow  you, 
don’t  get  the  sequence  of  your  ideas.  You  had  an  argument — 
an  altercation  in  other  words — with  a  guy.  Now  tell  me  what’s 
a  guy? 

Lennihati — Father,  a  guy’s  a  kid. 

Father  Hyland — And  a  kid  is  a  young  goat? 

Lennihan — No,  Father;  a  kid  is  what  the  Sisters  call  a 

boy. 

Father  Hyland — [Pretending  to  he  enlightened.]  Indeed, 
indeed !  So  a  kid  is  actually  a  boy ! 

Regan — [Aside  to  Anderson.]  Maybe  he’ll  forget  about 
Moore’s  fight. 

A^iderson — [Aside  to  Regan.]  Hope  so! 

Father  Hyland — So  you  had  an  argument  with  a  boy  as  to 
where  unbaptized  infants  go.  And  how  did  you  settle  it? 

Johnson — We  didn’t  settle  it.  Father;  we  fought  it  out. 

Regan — [Aside  to  Anderson.]  Gosh,  fightin’  it  out  will 
make  him  think  o’  Moore’s  fight. 

Anderson — [Aside  to  Regan.]  That  boob  Johnson! 

Father  Hyland — Fought  it  out,  eh?  That’s  what  the  theo¬ 
logians  always  do. 

Johnson — The  question  is  pretty  deej)  for  me.  Father. 

Father  Hyland — Quite  so,  quite  so,  indeed.  [Turning  to 
Johnson  with  mock  solemnity.]  “There  are  more  things  in 
heaven  and  earth,  Horatio,  than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philoso¬ 
phy.”  [Addressing  all  the  hoys.]  So  our  friend  Weeman  is 
going  off  to  school  Friday? 


20 


Regan — [Aside  to  Anderson.]  Gosh!  he’ll  think  of  it  now. 

Anderson — [Aside  to  Regan.]  Yeh,  he’s  cornin’  to  it. 

Tucker — Yes,  Father;  his  mother  wants  him  to  go  to  a 
swell  school  in  the  East. 

Father  Hyland — [Pretending  not  to  understand.]^  A  swell 
school?  What’s  that? 

Tucker — That’s  what  the  catalogue  calls  an  exclusive 
school. 

Father  Hyland — And  who  else  is  going  to  this  exclusive 
school ? 

Tucker — No  one  else.  Our  dads  ain’t  got  the  dough. 

Father  Hyland — [Pretending  not  to  understand.]  The 
dough  ?  Are  they  all  bakers  ? 

Tucker — I  mean  they  ain’t  got  the  money. 

Father  Hyland — O!  the  money;  the  unum  necessarium. 
Quite  so,  indeed.  Now  let  me  see?  Who  missed  Communion 
last  Sunday?  You,  Ralph? 

Regan — No;  I  was  there.  Father. 

Father  Hyland — You,  George? 

Eyre — Yes  I  was  there.  Father. 

Father  Hyland — And  Ray,  how  about  you? 

Higgins — I  went  to  the  lake  last  Saturday  to  get  some 
frog  legs — 

Father  Hyland — That’s  a  shame. 

Higgins — For  you.  Father. 

Father  Hyland — Well,  that  is-er-a  mitigating  circum¬ 
stance.  But  don’t  let  it  happen  again. 

Higgins — No,  Father;  I  won’t. 

Father  Hyland — [Looking  at  the  hoys  for  some  moments.] 
It  onlv  remains  for  me  to  tell  vou  not  to  be  too  noisy.  Boys 
should  be  seen  and  not  heard.  [P>oys  shake  their  heads  and 
shmv  s-igns  of  disapproval.]  And  they  should  be  seen  but 
seldom — mostly  in  school  and  church.  [Boys  show  signs  of 
disagreement.]  Above  all,  do  not  remain  too  late. 

Moore — Ten  o’clock.  Father? 

Father  Hyland — [With  assumed  severity.]  Ten  o’clock! 
Wh}’,  young  man,  do  you  think  this  is  an  all-night  theatre?  Ten 
o’clock,  indeed !  Why,  my  young  men,  the  world  is  in  its  third 
sleep — or  ought  to  be — ^at  ten  o’clock.  Let  me  see.  [Looks  at 
his  icatch.]  It’s  now  five  minutes  after  eight.  Let  the  last  boy 
of  you  be  out  of  here  by  nine  o’clock. 

Several — O,  Father! 

Father  Hyland — No  use.  The  die  is  cast! 

Donovan — [Coaxing.]  I‘lease,  Father! 

Father  Hyland — No;  home  sweet  home  at  9  o’clock! 

Werner — We’ll  be  just  as  quiet  as  if  we  were  in  church. 


21 


Father  Hyland — [With  mock  solemnity.]  I  am  not  in  the 
giving  mood  today ! 

Lennihan — Make  it  half-past  nine,  Father.  You  know  we’re 
good. 

Father  Hyland — Yes  I  do ! 

Regan — Please,  Father;  just  tonight! 

Father  Hyland — [Reflecting.]  No,  not  tonight.  You’ve 
been  fairly  good  this  week,  to  be  sure.  [Boys  shoiv  signs  of 
happiness.]  Only  fairly  good,  however.  [Boys  shake  their 
heads  gloomily.]  Later  on,  possibly;  not  tonight.  [Moves  out 
of  the  gymnasium.] 

Johnson — [Shouting.]  Here,  Lennihan,  put  on  the  gloves 
with  me. 

Father  Hyland — [Turning  round  quickly.]  That  reminds 
me. 

Regan — [Aside  to  Anderson.]  He’s  thought  of  it  now! 

Anderson — [Aside  to  Regan.]  That  fool  Johnson!  Spoils 
everything ! 

Father  Hyland — Yes,  that  reminds  me.  Frank,  come  here ! 
[Moore  approaches  slowly  a7id  stands  in  front  of  Father  Hy¬ 
land.]  Frank,  I  hear  you’ve  been  in  a-a — 

Eyre — Pu-pu-gi listic  encounter. 

Father  Hyland — [Looking  at  Eyre.]  Yes,  pugilistic  en¬ 
counter  Avill  do.  [To  Moore.]  How  about  it,  Frank? 

Moore — [Slowly.]  Yes,  Father,  I  had  a  little  trouble  over 
at  the  Mangolia  Club  last  night. 

Regan — [Aside  to  Anderson.]  Gosh,  Moore  had  best  be 
in  the  state  o’  grace ! 

Anderson — [Aside  to  Regan.]  Yeh.  He’ll  be  killed! 

Father  Hyland — [To  Moore.]  Tell  me  about  it. 

Moore — [Looking  at  Foster.]  You  tell  it,  Fos;  you  weren’t 
in  it. 

Father  Hyland — [With  mock  solemnity.]  Yes,  if  you’re 
what  we  may  call  a  disinterested  spectator,  go  ahead. 

Foster — Well,  me  an’  Frank — 

Father  Hyland — No,  Frank  and  I,  if  3^011  please. 

Foster — Well,  then,  Frank  an’  me — no,  Frank  an’  I — went 
to  the  Mangolia  Club  to  get  Dude  Weeman  ’cause  his  mother 
wanted  to  see  him  an’  she  asked  us  to  please  go  an’  get  him  an’ 
we  did.  Well,  one  o’  them  kids  up  there — 

Father  Hyland — Kids?  Those  are  the  strange  creatures 
the  Sisters  call  boys? 

Foster — Huh,  huh. 

Father  Hyland — [With  mock  severity.]  Well,  go  on. 


22 


Foster — Well,  this  guy  he  began  to  abuse  Frank  about  his 
mother,  his  home,  an’  such.  Well,  after  a  while  they  plagued 
Frank  to  put  on  the  gloves  with  the  guy  an’  fight  ’im.  Well, 
Frank,  he  got  mad  after  awhile,  put  on  the  gloves  an’  cleaned 
up  on  the  guy  good  an’  proper. 

Father  Hi/lcvnd — [Pretending  to  he  mystified.']  Cleaned 
up?  Gave  him  a  bath,  do  you  mean? 

Foster — No;  poked  him  a  few  good  biffs  an’  knocked  him 
down. 

Father  Hyland — [Loohing  at  Moore  solemnly  for  some 
moments.]  Did  3011  do  that,  Frank? 

^foore — [Appearing  to  he  very  sorry.]  Yeh,  Father,  but 
I’m  verv  sorrv. 

f  t/ 

Father  Hyland — [Slowly.]  You  are?  [After  a  brief 

pause.]  I  doubt  it,  sir;  I  doubt  it. 

Foster — Well,  Father,  ’twas  they  a’  started  it.  Said  we 
were  rough-necks,  an’  such. 

Father  Hyland — [Interested.]  And  .vou  sa^^  he  actually 
knocked  him  down?  Was  he  a  big  boj" — as  big  as  3^ou? 

Foster — O,  bigger! 

Father  Hyland — Bigger,  eh?  An’  you  say  he  hit  him  sev¬ 
eral  times  with  the  glove? 

Foster — Huh,  huh.  Biffed  him  one  on  the  nose. 

Father  Hylafid — [Pleased.]  Well,  well,  well!  And  3^011 
tell  me  3’ou  bo3's  didn’t  start  it? 

Foster — No,  Father;  honest  we  didn’t. 

Father  Hyland — But  3mu  tell  me  Frank  finished  it. 

Foster — Huh,  huh. 

Father  Hyland — [Seriously  to  all.]  On  general  princi¬ 
ples,  boys,  we  ought  never  go  into  a  fight  if  we  can  sta3'  out  of 
it  with  honor.  But  if  we  can’t,  let’s  go  in  and  fight  to  win.  For 
ourselves,  our  homes,  our  countiw  we  must  strive  to  have 
peace;  but  when  we  are  unjusth"  dealt  by — then  war  till  we 
are  given  our  rights.  Our  countiw  first,  last  and  always.  Frank, 
I  like  3  our  spirit — 3011  are  free  of  all  blame.  In  fact,  the  fa¬ 
ther  of  the  3mung  man  whom  you  treated  to  such  a  beating 
called  in  to  see  me  this  morning  and  said  it  was  just  what  the 
fellow  needed.  Don’t  fight,  bo3s,  unless  you  have  to;  and  then 
— do  3()u  hear  me?  [Boys  nod  assent.] — and  then  when  you 
have  to,  fight  as  though  3^11  mean  evei\y  lick  3^11  give.  [Taking 
out  watch  and  looking  at  it  for  some  moments  mith  reflection.] 
Yes,  you  may  stay  till  nine-thirty.  [Boys  cheer  and  handclap. 
They  begin  in  groups  to  hox,  to  toss  the  hasket-hall,  to  swing 
on  the  bars.] 

[Curtain.] 


23 


ACT  III. 


Scene  I. 

Time — Evening.  Six  months  later. 

Scene — Mangolia  Club  Room.  Boys  seated  around  or  lollmg 
on  rocking  chairs  as  in  Act  II,  Scene  I.  Some  playing 
cards. 

Brown — That’ll  make  it  kind  o’  hard  on  Dude. 

Smithson — What’ll  make  it  hard  on  Dude? 

Broum — Didn’t  you  hear? 

Smithson — Hear  what? 

Broivn — Why,  that  Dude’s  father  failed;  busted  clean. 
Business  gone  under;  lost  everything. 

Dixon — When  did  you  hear  that.  Brown  ? 

Brown — Two  days  ago  from  the  old  man.  Said  he  saw  it 
coming  six  months  ago. 

Chesterton — Yeh,  and  Dude’s  back  from  school — couldn’t 
stand  the  expenses. 

Stanton — Well,  Dude’s  old  man  was  a  blamed  fool  for  let¬ 
ting  himself  get  broke.  Dude  will  go  around  like  a  beggar 
from  now  on.  I’ll  bet !  Well,  he’d  better  not  come  to  me. 

Hewitt — O,  I’ll  give  him  a  dollar  to  help  him  along  and 
let  him  go  at  that. 

Stanton — I’ll  give  him  a  quarter. 

Chesterton — I’ll  give  him  the  first  jack-pot  I  win. 

Brown — Now,  fellows,  let’s  quit  kiddin’  an’  get  down  to 
straight  goods.  On  the  square,  if  Dude  can’t  keep  up  with  his 
company  he  shouldn’t  be  in  it. 

Dixon — That’s  what  I  say. 

Stanton — Yesterday  he  was  up  here  hanging  on  like  a 
leech.  Now  if  he  can’t  keep  up  with  the  bunch  he  should  get 

out. 

Dixon — That’s  what  I  say. 

Hewitt — That’s  right.  We  didn’t  bust  his  father’s  busi¬ 
ness,  and  if  Dude  can’t  go  the  pace  he’d  better  get  out. 

Smithson — And,  anyhow,  he  doesn’t  belong  to  our  crowd — 
never  did  belong  to  it.  He  belongs  with  that  crowd  on  the 
North  Side. 

Hewitt — Yeh,  with  the  crowd  that  has  that  fellow  with 
the  dandy  wallop.  [They  all  laugh  and  point  to  Smithson.] 
Smithson — That’s  all  right,  fellows,  I’ve  no  kick  coming. 
That  guy  did  clean  me  all  right.  But  just  the  same  Dude’s  got 
to  go.  He  can’t  pay  the  dues,  his  old  man  has  sold  the  Pierce- 
Arrow.  Dude  can’t  stand  the  pace  here,  so  he’s  got  to  go. 
Dixon — Yes,  that’s  right. 


24 


Broicn — Well,  lie’ll  be  up  here  in  a  little  while  and  when 
he  comes  we’ll  vote  on  it. 

Stanton — And  let  the  vote  be  nix  all  round.  Do  you  hear? 
— nix  all  round. 

Se  vern  I — Yeh. 

Smithson— ^lixxhe  he  won’t  want  to  stick  around  now, 
anvhow. 

Stanton — Won’t,  eh?  You  don’t  know  leeches!  [Enter 
EE  MAN.  Boys  pay  no  attention  to  him.] 

Weeman — Hello,  fellows ! 

Broimi — [Coldly,  not  looking  at  him.]  Hello! 

Weeman — [To  those  playing  cards.]  Having  a  little  game, 

eh? 

Brown — [Coldly.]  Y^es.  What  can  we  do  for  you ? 

Weeman — O,  I  just  thought  I’d  drop  in. 

Brown — [After  they  have  stopped  play  mg  cards.]  To  be 
straight  with  3  ou,  Dude,  we’ve  ’bout  conchidefi  to,  drop  you 
from  the  club.  You  see  j^our  father’s  failure  has  lorced  you 
out  of  Waverl}'  and  naturalli^  ,vou  can’t  stand  the  expense  here. 
We  hate  like  ever^Tliing  to  do  it,  but  there’s  nothing  else  left. 

Weeman — Well,  don’t  3’ou  stand  by  a  fellow  when  he’s 
down?  Isn’t  it  one  of  3'Our  rules  to  stand  by  each  other?  ‘ 

Brown — You  can’t  meet  the  expenses  here.  Dude,  and  iiat- 
uralH  we  can’t  keep  3’ou  as  a  member  of  the  club. 

Weeman — O,  well,  j^ou  might  keej)  a  fellow  for  a  couple  of 
months.  Maj’be  b}"  that  time  dad’s  business  will  be  straight¬ 
ened  out  and  I’ll  be  able  to  pay. 

Brown — What  do  3'ou  sa}",  fellows?  Will  we  hold  him  on? 

Stanton — Let’s  put  it  to  a  vote. 

Dixon — Y"eh,  fellows,  let’s  vote  on  it. 

Brown — All  right.  Get  the  slips  o’  paper,  Hewitt. 

Weeman — All  I  ask  is  two  months,  fellows.  that  time, 
I’m  pretD’  sure  my  father  will  have  things  fixed  up. 

Brown — Just  vote  as  ,vou  feel  like,  fellows,  and  never  mind 
Dude.  Those  who  want  him  to  stav  vote  ‘Wes”;  those  who 
want  him  out  vote  “No.”  Do  you  hear? — “No.”  [The  slips  of 
paper  are  passed  around.  Brown  counts  the  votes.  All  vote 
“Ao.”] 

Brown — Then  that  means  you’ve  got  to  go.  Dude. 

Weeman — Got  to  go,  eh?  Got  to  go!  So  that’s  all  your 
talk  of  “stick  together”  amounts  to !  You  hold  on  to  a  fellow 
while  his  father’s  got  the  mone^’,  and  when  he’s  broke  ,vou  kick 
him  out.  That’s  .vour  stick  together,  eh? 

Stanton — Well,  I  guess  we  can  keep  the  fellows  we  want, 
and  the  fellows  who  can’t  stand  the  pace  we  kick  out. 


25 


Weeman — [Looking  around  at  the  memhers.]  And  this  is 
the  bunch  I’ve  been  going  with !  And  these  are  the  fellows  I’ve 
been  bowing  to!  Just  when  a  guy’s  down  they  let  him  stay 
down  to  get  along  the  best  he  can.  So  that’s  the  friendship  of 
the  Mangolia  Club !  [Picking  up  his  hat  and  starting  for  the 
door.]  Well,  fellows,  I’m  through.  Of  course  you’ve  voted  me 
out,  but  I  Avouldn’t  stay  now  if  you  voted  me  in  a  thousand 
times. 

Several — Sour  grapes! 

Weeman — No,  ’tain’t  sour  grapes!  It’s  just  that  I’ve  been 
a  fool  all  along  trying  to  make  up  with  a  bunch  that  doesn’t 
belong  where  I  ought  to  belong.  Good-bye,  fellows,  I’m  through 
— through  for  good.  I’m  going  back  to  the  bunch  I  know.  They 
may  not  want  me,  either,  after  the  way  I  snubbed  them  every 
time  I  got  a  chance.  I’ll  try  them  anyhow.  Majbe  they’ll  for¬ 
give  and  forget.  Anyhow,  I’m  through  here.  Good-bye,  and 
for  always  !  [EobU.] 

Brown— ijiodd  riddance ! 

Chestert07i — So  long! 

Dixon — Skidoo!  [They  get  around  table  and  begin  to  play 
a  game  of  poker.] 

[Curtain.] 

Scene  II. 

Time — 7:30  next  evening. 

Scene — Junior  Holy  Name  meeting  7'oom.  The  members  of  the 
society  seated.  Frank  Moore  presiding. 

Moore — [Rapping  for  order.]  The  Secretary  will  please 
read  the  minutes  of  the  preceding  meeting. 

Wise — [Rises  and  reads.]  The  last  meeting  of  the  Junior 
Holy  Name  Society  was  held  Wednesday  evening,  November 
9th,  all  the  members  being  present  except  Tommie  Donovan, 
who  said  he  had  to  drive  the  cows  to  the  pasture,  and  Toby 
Tucker,  who  reported  that  he  had  a  stomach-ache. 

Tucker — That  ain’t  so !  I  didn’t  say  I  had  a  stomach-ache. 

Wise — Did  too ! 

Tucker — Bet  shu  dime  I  didn’t. 

Moore — [Rapping.]  Come  to  order,  please!  Come  to 
order ! 

Tucker — Well  he  had  no  business  sayin’  I  had  a  stomach¬ 
ache  when  I  didn’t. 

Wise — You  said  you  had;  that’s  all  I’ve  got  to  say. 

Tucker — No,  I  didn’t,  either. 

Wise — Yes,  you  did. 

Moore — [Rapping.]  Order!  Order!  [To  Tucker.]  Mr. 
Tucker,  did  you  have  a  stomach-ache? 


26 


Tucker — No;  ’course  I  didn’t. 

Moore — Mister  Secretary,  the  gentleman  should  know  if 
he  had  a  stomach-ache.  Correct  that  and  say  Mr.  Tucker  didn’t 
have  a  stomach-ache. 

Wise — [Writing  and  7'eading  as  he  writes.]  Mr. — Tucker — 
didn’t — have — a — stomach — ache.  [Resmnes  7'eading  7m7iutes.] 
The  minutes  of  the  last  meeting  were  read  and  highly  approved. 
The  President  said  that  the  Secretary  wrote  the  best  minutes 
[7ne7nhers  look  at  one  another  and  show  disagreement]  he  ever 
heard.  He  said  that  the  society  owed  a  vote  of  thanks  to  the 
Secretarv — 

Eyre — Oh,  ho,  swell  why  don’t  shu ! 

Regan — Say,  but  you’re  the  gu}^  that  pats  yourself  on  the 
back ! 

Templeton — You’ll  bust  like  a  balloon  from  praisin’  your¬ 
self ! 

Mooi'e — [Rapping.]  Order!  Come  to  order,  please! 

^yise — [Reading.]  To  the  Secretary.  He  said  that  the 
Secretarv  was  the  cleverest — 

t<everal — O,  gosh!  Listen  to  that! 

Moore — Mr.  Secretary,  cut  out  all  the  rest  about  the  Sec¬ 
retary.  He’s  had  enough. 

Wise — All  right,  Mr.  President.  [Turns  over  several 
pages.]  The  Treasurer’s  report  was  next  read.  Several  mis¬ 
takes  were  found  in  the  Treasurer’s  book,  which  took  the  so¬ 
ciety  some  time  to  fix  up  with  the  aid  of  the  Secretary — 

Donovan — Good  night!  Swell  some  more,  why  don’t  shu! 

We7'7ier — If  that  don’t  kill  a  fellow  the  way  that  guy  talks 
about  himself ! 

Moore — [8eve7'ely.]  The  gentlemen  must  come  to  order! 

Pie7'ce — I’d  like  to  know  where  he  gets  that  bunk  ’bout 
mv  ’counts  not  bein’  correct? 

Wise — Well,  didn’t  you  spend  twenty  cents  for  postage 
stamps,  an’  didn’t  you  forget  to  ])ut  it  down  till  I  told  shu? 

Moore — Continue,  Mr.  Secretary,  and  cut  out  all  that  puts 
the  Treasurer  in  bad. 

Wise — [Tu7'ns  over  two  pages.]  The  committee  on  games 
handed  in  a  report  about  the  spring  field-day  that  was  so  badly 
mixed  up  that  the  Secretary  had  to  straighten  it  out. 

Johnso7i — O,  gosh!  hear  him!  I  was  in  that  committee  an’ 
the  report  wasn’t  mixed  up. 

Len7iihan — So  was  I,  too;  the  boob! 

Moore — [Rapping.]  The  gentlemen  will  ])lease  come  to 
order ! 

Wise — [Readmg.]  The  President  thanked  the  Secretary 
for  fixing  it  up  and  said  the  society  would  be  in  a  bad  way  if 
it  didn’t  have  such  a  good  Secretary.  The  Secretary — 

27 


Moore — [Severely.']  Skip  that  and  read  something  about 
somebody  else. 

Lennihan — [Ironically.]  There  ain’t  nothin’  else.  -- 

Wise — [SJdps  some  pages  and  reads.]  The  report  of  the 
committee  on  new  members  was  brought  in,  but  as  Ralph  Re¬ 
gan  couldn’t  read  his  own  writin’,  the  President  asked  the  Sec¬ 
retary  to  read  it,  which  he  did  in  a  very  fine  manner. 

Regan — That  ain’t  so,  Mr.  President.  When  I  started 
readin’  he  grabbed  the  book  an’  said,  ‘T^et  me  do  it.” 

Wise — Didn’t  either. 

Regan — Did  too. 

Moore — Order !  Order !  Everything  must  be  done  by  par¬ 
liamentary  pro-pro — [Aside  to  Foster.]  What  did  Father  BlJ- 

land  sav  that  was? 

•  ’ 

Foster — [Aside  to  Moore.]  Precedence. 

M oore — By-ah-parliamentary  precedence. 

Higgins — That  ain’t  the  word,  Mr.  President.  It’s  parlia¬ 
mentary  precedence. 

Anderson — No,  ’tain’t  precedence.  Mister.  It’s  parliamen¬ 
tary  procedure. 

Moore — [Relieved.]  Yeh,  that’s  it.  AVell,  let  me  see? 
AVhere  were  we  ? 

McCahe — You  were  tellin’  Regan  to  be  still  when  you  got 
stuck  on  parliamentary  procedure. 

Moore — Huh,  huh,  that’s  it.  Regan,  you  keep  still,  an’ 
you  continue  readin’  ’bout  yourself,  Mr.  Secretary. 

Wise — [Reading.]  After  that  the  Secretary  helped  out 
the  committee  on  new  members  and  was  praised  for  this  by  the 
President.  The  committee  on  the  Christmas  entertainment  was 
called  on  for  a  report  and  didn’t  have  any,  so  the  President 
asked  the  Secretary  to  look  into  that  matter  and  he  said  he 
would  and  Avas  praised  for  it. 

Several — Oh!  ho! 

Moore — Order ! 

Wise — Next  the  library  committee  said  that  more  books 
were  needed  for  the  library,  but  all  the  money  Avas  spent  buy¬ 
ing  hand-balls.  Then  the  President  told  the  Secretary  to  look 
into  this  matter  also,  and  he  said  he  Avould  and  Avas  praised 
for  it. 

McCale — That’s  it,  keep  on  SAvelling! 

Moore — Order ! 

Wise — The  neAV  rules  committee  Avas  asked  for  a  report 
and  they  said  the  old  rules  Avere  all  right,  and  that  it  Avould 
be  better  if  there  Avere  no  rules.  [All  members  aj^plaiid.]  The 
Treasurer  then  said  that  some  of  the  members  were  back  in 
their  dues  and  it  was  hard  to  collect.  Then  the  President  said 


28 


to  the  Secretary:  ^‘You  go  ahead  and  tend  to  that  matter.’’ 
And  he  said  he  would  and  received  praise  for  it.  [iliemhers 
show  signs  of  disgust.]  Then  there  was  some  other  business 
and  after  awhile  the  President  said  the  prayer  and  the  meeting 
adjourned,  and  everybody  went  to  the  gym  for  a  good  time. 
Then  Father  Hyland  said  to  the  Secretary :  ‘‘Mr.  Wise,  you 

keep  3mur  eye  on  the  boys  and  make  them  behave.”  [All  mem* 
hers  show  signs  of  disapproval.] 

Moore^ — [After  some  consideralAe  pause.]  You  have  heard 
the  minutes.  What  will  we  do  with  ’em? 

Alh — Throw  ’em  out! 

Moore — You’re  out  of  order.  What  will  we  do  with  ’em? 

McCahe‘ — That’s  what  I’d  like  to  know? 

Moore — Will  we  let  ’em  go  as  they  are? 

Several — Huh,  huh;  let  ’em  go. 

Moore — All  right;  the  minutes  are  accepted.  Only  make 
’em  shorter  next  time  by  cuttin’  out  all  that  bunk  ’bout  your* 
self. 

Wise — Well,  don’t  you  kids  like  it? 

Several — No ! 

Wise — [Throwing  down  his  hook  and  sitting  down.]  Wellj 
you  just  write  the  minutes  yourselves  next  time.  [Enter  Fa* 
THER  Hyland.  Bogs  stand  up.] 

Father  Hyland — Just  sit  down,  boys.  Is  your  meeting 
over? 

Moore — The  committees  have  to  report,  but  we  can  take 
that  up  next  meeting,  Father.  [The  hoys  sit  down.] 

Father  Hyland — Well,  boys,  for  a  long  time  I’ve  been 
promising  to  tell  you  a  story,  but  somehow  I’ve  never  been  able 
to  get  to  it.  Tonight  I’ve  a  free  hour  and  if  you’ll  sit  very  still 
I’ll  tell  you  one.  [Boys  settle  doivn  and  show  interest.]  Two 
ships  lay  at  anchor  ready  to  sail  out  to  sea.  One  was  a  large 
vessel,  white-decked,  her  flags  floating  along  every  wind.  Costly 
cabins,  a  small  theatre,  great  promenades,  swimming-pools^ 
rich  dining-rooms,  grand  music — all  that  wealth  can  have — 
were  set  down  as  a  part  of  her  manifold  enchantments.  The 
other  was  a  little  black  ship,  like  a  sea  tramp,  showing  dingy 
]>ort-holes  along  her  sides.  Her  decks  were  of  rough,  weather- 
l)eaten  boards,  her  cabins  dark  and  small,  her  dining-room  low 
and  uninviting,  the  fare  of  her  passengers  the  simplest.  On 
the  flrst  vessel  gold-laced  officers  bowed  to  the  rich  passengers 
who  crossed  the  plank  for  their  glorious  ocean  voyage.  On  the 
other  vessel  rough  seamen  made  ready  for  their  journey  and 
now  and  then  nodded  to  the  poor  peasants  who  took  passage 
with  them.  After  a  time  came  along  a  well-dressed  young  man 
with  a  servant  carrying  his  baggage.  He  stopped  for  a  moment 


29 


I 


and  looked  at  the  hut-steamer  on  his  way  to  the  palace  of  the 
ocean. 

‘‘Won’t  you  come  with  us?”  asked  the  old  captain,  smiling 
as  he  stood  at  the  gangway. 

“With  you?  and  in  that  crazy  old  ship?  Not  in  a  thou¬ 
sand  years  I”  The  young  man  flung  his  head  high  in  disdain  as 
he  followed  his  servant  to  the  palace  of  the  sea. 

That  same  day  both  ships  sailed  toward  the  open  ocean. 
The  large  ship  moved  along  with  the  majesty  of  a  lion;  the  lit¬ 
tle  vessel  stole  behind  like  a  mongrel  dog  unheard  of  and  un¬ 
heeded.  There  were  bright  hours  of  pleasure  in  the  palace  of 
the  ocean;  there  was  quiet  living  in  the  hut  of  the  sea  that 
trailed  in  its  shadow. 

One  day,  midway  the  voyage,  a  wind’s  breath  freshened 
the  sea  and  later  flung  her  into  lashing  bellows.  Clouds  glided 
across  the  heavens  as  the  great  wind  rose  and  swelled.  The 
young  man,  who  had  watched  disdainfully  the  beggar  ship  be¬ 
fore  he  left  on  his  voyage,  watched  her  with  disdain  now,  too, 
as  she  rose  and  fell  on  the  tossing  sea.  Suddenly  a  wave,  flung 
over-decks  by  a  wind  gust,  caught  him  in  its  embrace  and  pres¬ 
ently  he  was  cast  on  the  sea.  “Man  overboard!”  was  shouted 
from  tongue  to  tongue.  Liveried  officers  looked  over  the  rail¬ 
ing  and  saw  the  form  flung  on  the  waves.  “It’s  his  loss !  We 
can’t  endanger  ourselves  to  save  every  fool  who  falls  over¬ 
board!”  cried  the  captain  as  the  great  ship  steamed  on.  The 
tramp  ship  followed  and  as  she  passed,  the  young  man  was  still 
afloat.  “Man  a  life-boat!”  cried  the  captain.  Three  hardy 
sailors  went  down  the  ship’s  side  and  in  a  moment  were  rising 
and  falling  with  the  swell  and  pitch  of  the  sea.  They  saved 
the  proud  young  man  who  scorned  their  tramp  ship  when  safe 
on  land.  [Silence  for  some  moments.'] 

Anderson — He  was  one  good  captain,  wasn’t  he.  Father? 

Father  Hyland — He  was. 

McCabe — An’  those  sailors,  thev  were  brave. 

Father  Hyland — Yes,  very  brave. 

Lennihan — An’  that  joung  man,  I  bet  he  was  thankful. 

Father  Hyland — You  may  be  sure. 

Bayfield — An’  sorry  for  the  way  he  acted. 

Father  Hyland — No  doubt  he  was.  [Pause.]  Noav  1  sup¬ 
pose  you’d  all  like  to  be  those  three  sailors. 

Several — You  bet. 

Father  Hyland — Would  you  really? 

Several — Sure,  Father. 

Father  Hyland — And  you’d  like  to  be  the  captain,  Frank? 

Moore — Gee!  but  I  would,  Father. 


30 


Father  Hyland — And  all  you  others — you  would  like  to  be 
those  three  sailors? 

All — Sure! 

Father  Hyland — ^Well,  now,  here  you  have  it.  Your  society, 
not  very  large,  not  very  powerful,  is  the  humble,  little  ship  on 
the  world  sea  to  help  save  all  it  can.  Frank,  stand  up.  [Moore 
stands  up.]  Boys,  attention.  [Boys  sit  up  straight.]  Frank, 
you’re  the  captain ;  boys,  you’re  the  sailors. 

Moore — But  there’s  no  man  overboard.  Father? 

Father  Hyland — Yes,  we  can  find  him,  too.  [Leaves  the 
room  and  in  a  few  moments  returns  with  Weeman.  Silence.] 
Here’s  your  man  overboard;  your  brother  Weeman — because 
he  is  your  brother,  although  he  has  not  known — is  fallen  over¬ 
board.  The  ship  Mangolia  has  sped  on  without  picking  him  up.  * 
Your  small  ship  is  passing  him  now.  Man  your  life-boats  and 
save  him  ! 

Moore — I  don’t  understand.  Father,  just  what  you  mean 
about  Weeman. 

Father  Hyland — Well,  my  young  man,  you  had  best  ex¬ 
plain  as  you  explained  to  me  this  morning. 

W  eeman — Well,  boys,  you  know  my  father  has  had  lots  of 
trouble,  and  lost  everything  we  had.  I  had  to  leave  school 
three  days  ago  because  I  couldn’t  pay  the  tuition.  Last  night 
I  went  into  the  Mangolia  Club  and  the  fellows  expelled  me  be¬ 
cause  of  the  disgrace  that  came  on  my  father.  They  took  a  vote 
and  voted  me  out.  And  now,  having  learned  my  lesson,  that 
money  doesn’t  make  any  real  friends,  and  that  I’ve  been  a  fool 
all  along  in  trying  to  get  away  from  my  own  crowd,  I  come  to 
ask  you  to  admit  me  into  the  Junior  Holy  Name  Society. 

Moore — Very  good,  but  you  must  have  the  approval  of  our 
spiritual  director. 

Father  Hyland — He  has. 

Moore — And  you’ll  come  to  Communion  every  month? 

Weeman — I’ll  try  never  to  miss. 

Moore — The  Chair  will — will — [Aside  to  Foster.]  What 
is  that,  Foster? 

Foster — [Aside  to  Moore.]  Entertain  a  motion. 

Moore — The  Chair  will  entertain  a  motion  for  Mr.  Wee¬ 
man  to  be  admitted  into  the  Junior  Holy  Name  Society. 

Pierce — Mr.  President,  I  make  a  motion  that  Mr.  Weeman 
be  admitted  as  a  member  of  the  Junior  Holy  Name  Society. 

Werner — Mr.  President,  I  second  the  motion. 

Moore — All  in  favor  of  the  motion  will  signify  the  same  by 
saying  ‘C4ye.” 

All — [Very  strongly.]  Aye.  [Applause  and  members  shake 
hand^  with  Weeman  as  curtain  goes  down.] 

[The  End.] 


Due 

s .  .  ^ 

- 

